Time heals nothing. It’s our fading memories that give rise to this statement. We forget. The closest I get to forgetting is compartmentalizing those experiences into a specific mindstate. I might even code the mindstate to a locale. I sometimes wish my mind allowed me to forget completely. But then I’ll recall a conversation or a smile or dancing with Morgan. I’ll recall a kiss or a touch. And as much as these memories are melancholic, I would not trade them for the temporary comfort of forgetting. Of losing them.